What If Forever Ends Today
by C.M. Oliver is eastwoodgirl
Summary: Everybody told him to wait before asking Kurt to marry him, that they were still young and had years of their lives ahead of them. That their love was built to last forever... But forever, Blaine finds out, may have a different definition for him. 4X21 reaction. Or the real reason why Blaine suddenly wants to marry Kurt.


**WHAT IF FOREVER ENDS TODAY?**

**WARNING: ANGST. UNRELIABLE MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE. SPOILERS FOR 4X21. AU after the airing of 4X22 but was written beforehand.**

**DISCLAIMER: Those are all but rumors. I am not replacing Danny Di Loreto on the Writer's Panel.**

**A/N: I have a valid excuse for being away for far too long. Listen Up Tour. Darren Criss. San Francisco. I was there. Had a heart attack upon seeing this hot incredible guy in person. That is all. And I don't have a BETA. Get over it. All mistakes are mine. Typos are my stupid keyboard's problem. Enjoy. Feedback is appreciated.**

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**What If Forever Ends Today?**

**By C.M. Oliver**

**2013**

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"So… you're okay with it?" Blaine asks Burt in that hopeful tone of his. "You're okay with me asking Kurt to marry me?"

Burt turns away from inspecting the rainbow pin on the mirror with a bemused smile.

"Of course not, Anderson! You guys are still young! Haven't you learned anything from Rachel and Finn?" The Ohio Congressman stares Blaine in the eye. "What's all the hurry?"

"What if he finds someone else?" Blaine asks, voicing out a fear long kept. Burt cocks his head to one side as if assessing the young man's words.

"Look, do you believe that you're meant to be together?"

"Yes," Blaine does not miss a beat. "Kurt is my soulmate." Burt nods at him.

"There you go. Now I don't know about you, but in my understanding, soulmates always end up with each other. NO matter what –You have forever to spend the rest of your lives –"

"But –"

"I don't see why you're worrying about this, kid." Burt sighs. "You and Kurt love each other so much that it's impossible for you two not to end up together. All I'm saying is that there is no need to rush things. Marrying someone is a big deal. That is why getting a divorce is harder than breaking up. I am not saying no to you, Blaine. You're already part of the family as far as I'm concerned, one way or another. What I'm trying to say is not now. Find yourselves first, explore, love each other without the threat of commitment looming over your heads –love because you want to, not because you need to. And when the time comes, in a few years, when you're already sure and determined and able, then yes, you may have my permission." Burt tries to end it with a light-hearted smile directed at Blaine. "You'll be my son-in-law soon enough." Burt claps Blaine on the shoulder and turns to leave. "Thanks for the pin, by the way. I'll make sure to –"

"Sir –" Blaine speaks once more. All the time Burt was talking, he had his head down and was biting his lip. Burt thought none of it and chalked it up to the boy probably thinking deep about his sermon. But when Burt looks behind him again, he almost gasps in astonishment.

Blaine held his head up this time, his tear-stricken face in full view. Burt does not know what to make of it.

Blaine is crying? Is it because of what he had said? Burt retraces his steps until he is but a foot away from the young man. A tentative hand reaches out to touch the high school senior's shoulder .

"Hey, Blaine?" Burt is certainly at a loss. "Um, kiddo, listen, if this is about me not giving you my blessing, I –"

"N-no, sir ." Blaine slowly shakes his head, his voice breaking, his honey eyes looking anywhere but at the older man. "I –I just –just forget it, sir. I'm sorry." He then fruitlessly tries to wipe away the saline with the sleeves of his shirt. Burt takes pity with the boy and hands him his own handkerchief, the one that Carole insists he always carry around in his pocket. Blaine wordlessly accepts it. Burt watches the usually dapper young man try to make himself look decent again.

"You really love my son, don't you?"

"Y-yes, of course, sir." Blaine bites his lower lip, his gaze fully on the soiled handkerchief he holds. He is evidently trying to keep himself together. Burt tries to look closely. There is certainly something else going on here.

"It's still 'Burt' kiddo." The older man admonishes him lightly. "Now why don't you tell me what those tears are for?"

And just like that, Blaine's calm countenance tenses again. And Burt would have been blind if he did not notice this. He frowns. So there is something going on. It isn't his words that drove his son's sort-of ex-boyfriend to tears. Burt forces Blaine to look at him.

"What is going on, Anderson?" It isn't a threat, nor a demand. It is merely a concerned father wanting to know. Blaine knows this, but he is unsure. Unsure how to voice it out, unsure of what to actually say, unsure if he even wants Burt to know the truth. But one look at those blue eyes –eyes that are so much like Kurt's Blaine knows that it would only be a matter of time before he caves in.

His heart beats wildly, pounding relentlessly against his ribcage, the sound of which overpowers his senses. He is mildly unaware that Burt has already called his name again twice and is shaking him gently on the shoulders. The only thing that Blaine feels is dread. Nobody knows of his condition except the person who told him of it. Dare he reveal it? Wouldn't that make it seem more real?

Blaine is well deep inside his perplexing imaginary cocoon as he ponders on this. Burt has been nothing but decent towards him despite everything that has happened between him and Kurt.

The only thing Blaine hears at that moment is his own pulse, arrhythmic, confusing; The only thing he sees is darkness, empty, solitary. Then, all of a sudden, his makeshift shell breaks. He hears Burt frantically calling his attention. He sees the man's agitated expression. He feels… the urge to reveal the truth to this man… Blaine snaps out of his stupor and looks Burt Hummel in the eye.

"I –I may only have a year to live."

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It started with the headaches. They seemed to be just regular ones so he ignored them most of the time. When it got worse, Advil became his friend. It was easy enough in the beginning.

Then the inexplicable bruises came, He could blame them on the ruthless Cheerios routines Coach Sue, then eventually Coach Roz had them doing. But then, they started appearing in the most inconspicuous of places that he's pretty sure he hasn't hit on anything. Blaine's curiosity is piqued. He begins to notice how easily he gets tired, how more irritated he gets about the smallest of inconveniences and lose his appetite to eat anything at all with the exception of coffee and almond biscotti. By the time of Mr. Schue's not-wedding, he was 5 lbs. overweight. By the time of the not-shooting, he was 10 lbs. under. His face started showing the signs a week after. Tina notices the gaunt and haunted look in his eyes and his extremely pale lips. Blaine tells her that it is due to the nightmares of gunshots and losing people that he loves. She tells him to see a doctor. At first, Blaine is reluctant, but one morning, when he wakes up puking his guts out, he finally makes an appointment.

Late-stage Blood Cancer. The kind that was hard to detect in its earlier forms and showed no symptoms until later on. Dr. Benett, his internist refers him to an oncologist, Dr. Saroi. Dr. Saroi is a balding Asian man in his forties with the sternest face Blaine has ever seen –a man you'd never want to be telling you that you were sick as hell. But the moment Dr. Saroi breaks the news to the young man, his face betrays his soft spot for his patients. It is never easy. Especially with the young ones. He tells Blaine exactly what his condition is called, but the hazel-eyed senior fails to register it in his head. Instead, his mind zeroes in on one thing, and one thing alone:

Incurrable.

Dr. Saroi continues further about symptoms and maintenance medicine options, but Blaine refuses to process any of it any longer. He feels so alone at that moment. With his thoughts going a mile a minute , a question emerges from the chaos.

How long?

Dr. Saroi looks at him grimly. His beetle black eyes conveying how sorry he was to be telling this young man this information.

A year, without treatment. Two years maximum is the norm especially in the late stages like Blaine's.

Blaine stands up right after the death sentence was given and shakes the doctor's hand wordlessly. He does not know how he manages to get into his car and drives all the way to an empty home. His parents are in Czech Republic… or was it Cayman Islands? One of those places that begin with a 'C.' He doesn't even know anymore. He doesn't even find it I himself to care. He opens the door to his room and sits on his bed quietly, proud of the fact that he has only had to stop once during the drive to wipe away his tears.

He used to believe in words like Forever, Always and Eternity. He used to pepper his speech with Dreams and Future and Hope.

Now, he just uses one word to describe his situation, himself, his life in general.

Lost.

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At some point during Blaine's narrative, Burt gives in and envelopes the young man in an awkward but sincere embrace. The Congressman only knows too well how it feels to have your life hanging in the balance. He's been there himself, more times than he can ever want. It is a scary thought. He can only imagine how a 19-year old feels –to have everything suddenly yanked from under his feet. Blaine still had a lot to look forward to, Burt muses to himself: College, careers, family, growing old… it is not just fair, not at all. Burt knows the story of the word 'Courage' between his son and this young man, and he could not help but think of the irony –how Blaine gave Kurt courage to face up to his bullies, his demons… when in fact, it is Blaine himself who needs it. Now, more than ever. The two men stay in that hug for what seemed like eons.

It is Blaine who pulls away first, looking embarrassed.

"I –I'm sorry, sir –Burt," The boy grins sheepishly, but it is a smile that does not reach his eyes. Burt is torn between hugging Blaine again and punching him to wipe that fake smile off his prematurely aged face.

"I don't know what to say, Blaine." Burt admits, sighing. Blaine suddenly looks worried.

"Please don't tell Kurt."

Burt raises an eyebrow.

"You –you're keeping -this -away from him?" Blaine looks guilty for a moment, but a second later, his face is set once again.

"I –I don't want him to get worried needlessly," Blaine tells him softly. "He has a lot on his plate right now –school, Vogue… He doesn't –he can't –he doesn't need to know."

"So you don't tell him?" Burt's tone is challenging. "I agree that he has a lot going on but –" The older man shakes his head. "There are important things to my son, Anderson. Then there are IMPORTANT things to KURT. And despite everything, you still belong to the incredibly short list of the second option.

"Sir, Burt –"

Burt holds up a hand to stop his protest. "Look. My son will find out about this. Eventually. Maybe not now. And not from me. But trust me he will. And he will completely hate your guts for keeping this from him. You'll only break his heart. Again. And as his father I cannot allow that."

Blaine remains quiet for a while, contemplating on the man's words. A minute more passes. The shadows are still playing on Blaine's pale face. He stuffs his hands in his jeans' pockets and feigns interest on the polished stage floor. In front of him, Burt watches closely. The older man thinks that he can almost hear the cogs in Blaine's head turning. Eventually, he lets out a deep breath to break the painfully pregnant silence.

"Look," he lightly touches Blaine on the arm. "Tell him. Everything. Don't leave anything out. My position regarding marriage still stands, but I won't deny my son of a choice. If he accepts you… We'll work on this together."

Blaine looks up at him, unable to contain the surprise in his countenance. However, it quickly turns to worry. "What –what if he doesn't?" He asks in a small voice. Burt smiles.

"If I know my son, and believe me, Anderson, I do, he will. And my Kurt is quite the miracle worker. Got my prostate cancer cleared up with those herba-rituals of his." Burt gives in to his fatherly instinct and takes Blaine in his arms again. "And you will have to live longer than a year or two, kid. Let's just say that I won't be too keen on giving your spot on our Friday-Night dinner table to some hot-shot Harry Potter, Dr. Who reject." Burt pulls away and gives Blaine a final clap on the back. "Tell me how you decide, okay? I'm here to help anytime no matter what happens. You're a good kid, Blaine. Never forget that."

Blaine lets out a sigh of relief.

"Of course, sir. Um, there is one thing though."

"Shoot." Burt gives him a questioning look. Blaine fidgets before giving in and voicing out his dilemma.

"Can you –can you help me pick out a ring?"

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Regionals is in two days, and the New Directions last general rehearsal had just concluded about half an hour ago. Blaine currently sits from across Kurt in their customary table at the Lima Bean. Kurt is glancing outside the window, people-watching. The sky outside is relatively clear. Blaine's gaze on the other hand is onto Kurt and Kurt alone. The countertenor notices this.

"Do I have something on my face?"" Kurt asks. Blaine shamelessly continues what he is doing.

"No. I'm trying to commit your face to memory," came the reply. "I haven't seen you looking this relaxed and carefree for a while.: Blaine takes a sip of his medium drip. Kurt cocks his head onto one side, giving the honey-eyed boy a calculating stare.

"Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer."

And Blaine is suddenly chuckling, his puppy dog eyes all crinkly, and his lips curved up into a delicate half-moon. An inexplicable warmth blossoms forth deep inside Kurt –as if making Blaine laugh is his sole purpose in life.

"Okay, you're laughing at a bad cliché, it's creepy. Stop."

Blaine stops laughing, but his eyes remain amused. Kurt decides to switch gears.

"My dad mentioned that you gave him that rainbow pin."

Blaine's smile drops a notch. Kurt notices this, but decides not to point it out. The younger boy lets out a barely audible sigh.

"I did, at the auditorium. I thought maybe I'd give him a useful congratulatory present for winning against prostate cancer and continually surviving those prejudiced colleagues of his in Congress –it's nothing special, really." Blaine shrugs. Kurt watches him carefully with keen eyes.

"You also discussed his views on gay marriage?" Kurt prods. Blaine meets the azure eyes once before nodding.

"Yes. Briefly." Blaine swallows another mouthful of coffee and looks away. Kurt is extremely familiar with this type of Blaine: one who answers curtly and does not maintain eye contact. This is the Blaine who is trying to politely avoid discussing something but does not know how to say it out loud. Kurt frowns. He picks up his own drink and continues to watch Blaine like a hawk. Something is not right here. They stay in that state for what seemed like days until Kurt could not take it anymore. He reaches for Blaine's hand as he replaces his cup on the table. The way Blaine flinches the moment that they made contact almost made want Kurt to cry out. Blaine glances at their conjoined appendages once before hastily pulling away and standing up.

"I –I'm sorry. I remembered I have errands to do. Yup, that's it." He grabs his coat without nary a glance at Kurt. "I'll just catch a cab. Thanks for the coffee, Kurt. See you in two days at Regionals." The stiff manner Blaine uses to say it stuns Kurt into silence. And only when the younger boy has already left the coffee shop did Kurt manage to piece things together. He hastily grabbed his scarf and followed Blaine's exit.

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Blaine shuffles his feet. He decides to walk the wrong way home, just in case Kurt decides to follow him.

'_How… Just how do I even begin to tell him?'_

The rain starts to fall at that very moment, catching Blaine by surprise. He pauses in his steps to look up at the darkened sky. Just a minute ago, the sun was up. The tiny droplets of silver soon become heavy bullets against his bare skin, but Blaine does not make a move to take cover. He stayts in that position for a while until…

"What the –BLAINE! Get in here, you'll get sick!"

Blaine's eyes follows the voice and meets the burning glare of Kurt's ocean irises. He freezes. Kurt rolls his eyes and opens the passenger side of his trusty Navigator.

"Well? Come on! Or are you trying to purposely catch a cold, 2 days before Regionals?"

The diatribe shocks Blaine into action. He half-jogs to Kurt's car and effortlessly slides in. A thick blanket goes around his soaked for as the door shuts behind him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kurt asks irritably, rubbing the thick wool against Blaine's now unruly, gel-less curls. "I thought you were running errands?"

The cold seeps into Blaine's consciousness by that point. He shivers against Kurt's familiar touch. It's been too long, way too long since he's had those delicate hands caress him like this –and Blaine wonders if it is worth telling Kurt the truth to have these hands hold him and care for him some more. By the time Blaine's mind was settled, and his hair was no longer dripping, Kurt's eyes were back on the road.

"I'll drive you home –"

"No." Blaine tells him, half-pleading, half-commanding. Kurt raises an eyebrow but does not comment. Instead he drives his Navigator towards the opposite direction.

"My house then, it's closer. You should really change out of those clothes before you get sick –"

"I'm already sick." Blaine manages to blurt out before he could even stop himself. Sometimes he just couldn't help but hate himself for having a non-existent filter when he's with Kurt. There is something about the countertenor that just effortlessly unravels any hesitation he puts up around himself. Beside him, Kurt gives him a sideway glance that demanded for an explanation. Blaine sighs.

"I –Stop the car, please."

The tone is both defeated and anxious. It is enough to make Kurt comply. The countertenor pulls over next to a lamp post. He turns to Blaine.

"Now will you tell me? You've been –off –all week since I got here. What's wrong, Blaine? You can tell me, you know –"

"I'm dying." Blaine applauds himself silently for being able to voice it out without shuddering. It is the first time he verbally acknowledges it. And it was just fitting that he's with Kurt when he does. He closes his eyes briefly before continuing on. "I have late-stage blood cancer. Incurable. I have a year to two years left."

Kurt is sure he's forgotten how to breathe by then. Surely, there has been a mistake. He looks at Blaine; sweet, talented, dapper Blaine. His Blaine. No. He must've heard it wrong. Blaine can't be…

But one look in those amber eyes told Kurt that he heard everything perfectly. It was happening. Blaine, his Blaine…

A million questions paraded themselves in his head: why, how, what, when… But none of them seem to make sense at that very moment, in his car, curtained by an unrelenting thunderstorm. So instead of asking, he goes against the grain. He looks Blaine in the eye and garbs the younger boy's hand again. This time, Blaine does not pull away.

"I'm here for you." Kurt declares softly yet firmly as he encases Blaine's ice-cold fingers in his warm palm, "Just –tell me what to do. Anything."

Blaine looks at their clasped hands.

"Just stay. Stay. Here. With me."

Kurt manages a nod before pulling him for a hug, never mind that he is getting his vintage McQueen coat wet with dirty rain water. Nothing else matters to Kurt anymore other that here and now. With Blaine.

"Of course, honey. I –I know we're not in the best place right now, but I'll never say no to you, Blaine. Never. I'm here. I'll be here for as long as you need me."

Blaine pulls away from the hug and meets Kurt's eyes. The sincerity in those azure orbs blows him away. And in that moment, the golden-eyed boy realizes that there is no time like the present to begin forever with this wonderful person in front of him. Forever may be a long time for some people. But for the ones like him, it can mean a single heartbeat, and he is in no way wasting any of that on procrastinating. He reaches for the front pocket of his soaked jeans and pulls out a small black velvet-covered box. With trembling hands, he pops it open. He does not hear Kurt's surprised gasp upon seeing the diamond encrusted platinum band. Blaine reclaims the older boy's hand and meets those gorgeous eyes once more. He offers the sparkling ring in his hand.

"Will you –stay with me forever, Kurt? I don't care if we don't get married. I just want you to know that there is no one else I'd rather spend the rest of my days with –no matter how long that may be. I love you so much –"

"Yes!" Kurt gasps, burying his face in the crook of Blaine's neck, his tears mixing with the rain water. "Of course –I don't care how, as long as I'm with you. No matter when our forever ends, Blaine –Yes! A thousand times yes. I'll always be here. We'll get through this together."

Blaine chokes at the words. The rain outside grows heavier by the minute. Blaine thinks that it is a perfect metaphor for his days ahead. But he could care less. Not anymore. He has Kurt. Right then and there, as he relishes the feel of his beloved soulmate, Blaine knew that he had made the right decision.

"Together. Come what may."

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**A/N: This can be a first chapter of a multi-chapter fic, depending on your feedback. So please, let me know what you liked and otherwise. Until next time! –C.**

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_P.S. Talk to me. I'm a lonely kid. _


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